Clearly for little girl pageants since those mannequins were little. Pinks, lavenders, lace, bows and ruffles everywhere and everywhere something girl...sh and feminine. There was nothing in that store for boys.Dresses upon dresses in racks that looked like they covered every pastel color imagined and to the left, past the jewelry, and makeup counters, lingerie that Mark only glanced at. To his right shoes and in front of him, going all the way to the back, more dresses. Rows of them as he stood. There was no phone number, but there was the promise of future contact. Which might be amusing. I untied her, ungagged her. She wrapped herself in the blanket, clutching it to her, shaking, as much from shock as from cold."Did you enjoy the experience?" I asked her."I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she wept. "Please don't punish me any more. I'm sorry!" Maybe you'd like to repeat the experience another time?" I asked, and she fell to her knees at my feet, sobbing. I looked down; she looked good like. More

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